The Unexpected Journey

Most journeys or trips are well planned and anticipated for months ahead of time.  Myself, I like to know that the lodging accommodations are booked and secured several months in advance.  I create spreadsheets of our packing lists as soon as it is official that we are vacation bound.  I develop projected budgets for the trip from food and gas to entertainment.  I don't want to find myself miles away from home and unprepared.  However, we can't always be fully prepared for every journey we set out on. 

This particular journey was an unexpected one.  At 31 years old, happily married for 12 years, and just finalized the adoption of our only child, I felt our life was on the "right" track.  Even though I had been experiencing some female issues for about 5 months, I still felt confidant that the stress of the adoption had played a major factor in my ongoing problems.  A month after completing the adoption of our son (Enman), I proceeded to my dreaded annual appointment.  With the usual level of anxiety and discomfort, I entered the doors of Dr. Z's office.  My first stop was to be ultrasound, where they would image my ovaries and uterus.  I have become quite familiar with this type test from the many I experienced during fertility treatments several years prior and the yearly testing as a result of my irregularities.  So, I kinda know what I'm looking at when I watch the shades of grey, black and white shift and change on the strategically placed screen above my head.  A concern entered in when I noticed a small white circle within a larger dark circle.  I knew something was not right, so I began to prepare myself for what may be bad news.  The second stop was The Exam.  During which, Dr. Z informed me of a polyp on my cervix.  OK, so that's what I saw... He showed very little concern for this abnormality, but proceeded to explain that I would need to have it removed as well as have a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy.  Never having any major surgery or treatment before, this unnerved me a bit.  Already feeling a bit uneasy, I mentioned the growing fibroid adenoma in my breast.  This really alarmed him and brought my anxiety to a whole new level.  From there I was sent for a mammogram and yet another ultrasound, but this time of my breast.  Wound as tight as I though I could be, I entered the mammography area for the very first time.  Not pleasant.  I was relieved to be through with that step and onto ultrasound...again.  There was obviously something there in my breast that had every person involved very concerned.

After feeling like I had been read my last rights, as I left the doctor's office in a daze, I debated on whether or not to inform my husband, Michael, of all I had been alarmed of.  I knew I had to, but wasn't sure how he would take it.  I mustered up the strength to call him and mention the "C" word that had been shot at me like an arrow.  By the grace of God, he remained calm.  If he hadn't, I don't know how I would have reacted.   From this point forward, the love and compassion Michael has shown towards me has been immeasurable.  We had to find a way to tell everyone of the pending surgery and biopsy.  Not one person was easy to tell, but again God allowed everyone to keep composure, so I didn't have to worry about falling apart.

The next week I received a call from my gynecologist, not his scheduling nurse, but the Dr. himself to notify me of my surgical consultation appointment scheduled the very next day.  Let me tell you, when the doctor calls you directly, you don't exactly get a warm and fuzzy feeling.  Don't get me wrong, Dr. Z has been wonderful and compassionate, but the situation was unnerving.  The next day I visit Dr. Wood's office for the first time, not sure what to expect.  He examines me to feel the lump  and reviews the mammogram images.  He asks for my family history of cancer.  Even though I don't fit the bill...young, no history of cancer on my mother's side...he mentions the "C" word and his concern.  I'm still holding onto what I've been told.  "I'm concerned it's cancer, but these tests aren't everything, we won't know for sure until we can biopsy it."  I schedule my outpatient surgery upon leaving Dr. Wood's office, for the very next week.  So once again, I have to find it within me to let my friends and family know of the now upcoming surgery.  Still not an easy task.

Before surgery, I believe I was most nervous about not being able to wake up from the anesthesia.  Little did I know that would be the least of my worries.  One day after surgery to have the lump removed, I found myself back in Dr. Wood's office to hear the results of the biopsy.  You know the saying "It's like ripping off a Band-Aid"?  Well, that's what this appointment felt like.  He didn't waste anytime with the results and when straight from "It is a type of cancer" to "here are your options".  You never know how you will react until you are there.  My husband held me close but I could feel the shudder of his body as the tears came.  I was in shock and stared blankly at Dr. Wood as he gave us the options and the corresponding advantages and disadvantages.  I tried to listen and soak in all the information, but the wave nausea and extreme heat that accompanies had already turned my muscles and mind into jello.  I had to stop him mid-sentence.  I had to have some kind of relief.  The comforting words from Dr. Wood "I understand this is hard" along with a gentle and knowing pat on the knee, the cool wet rag from the nurse, my husband lifting my hair gently off my neck, they all helped, but what would help tomorrow and the next day and the next?  How would this effect me physically?  How would this effect my emotionally?  How would this effect me spiritually?  How would this effect my relationship with Michael? How would this effect my job?  So, many questions and not enough answers.

As the weekend passed, and all of our friends, family, coworkers and church family were notified, we not only received the peace of which direction we should take, but I also felt at peace with the diagnosis.  Michael's peace came later on, but I knew that this trial would be used as a way to minister to someone, somewhere down the road.  That is why I am writing this very long blog.  I want to relate to someone going through the very same thing and let them know there can be peace.  God has never allowed us to face trials that he hasn't turned into a blessing in either our lives or the lives of someone we have encountered through his ministry.

Even though the decision was difficult, we chose to have a bilateral mastectomy with full reconstruction.  Tests run, diagnosis given, choice made...all with minimal tears.  I think I'm doing pretty good a this point.  I feel comforted by the compassion I have received from everyone, included Dr. Wood and his office and Dr. Z.  I don't feel overwhelmed with sympathy, but true compassion.  I feel confident to proceed onto the next phase.  Dr. Wood's nurse, Debbie, schedules my appointment with the plastic surgeon.  I feel good at how fast everything seems to be moving along.  Michael and I leave work early enough to eat lunch together before my appointment with the plastic surgeon, Dr. Oliver.  I enjoy our time together and feel at ease.  We head to my appointment and meander through the community of Liberty Park.  As we enter the doors of Dr. Oliver's office, I feel very out of place.  Sometimes when you're from a rural area and find yourself in the urban world, you feel like an alien in a strange land.  The short time I spent in Dr. Oliver's waiting room, I new I was different than his usual clientele.  My hope before meeting Dr. Oliver was that he would exhibit the same level of kindness, compassion and understanding that Dr. Wood had.  This was especially so since once the mastectomy was over, Dr. Wood would turn me over to Dr. Oliver for my follow-up appointments.  I had read Dr. Oliver's bio online before meeting him and felt very confident in his abilities.  So far, I had a very good feeling.  Let me just warn you...plastic surgeons are not like other doctors.  As he spouted off facts and figures, stats and research, I felt like I was sitting half naked in a classroom.  Where was the personable attitude?  Where was the compassion?  Where was the ability to look me in the eye and talk to me?  As we left from our consultation with the plastic surgeon, neither Michael or myself felt easy.  Up until this point we had seen eye to eye.  I tried to be the eternal optimist and rationalize Dr. Oliver's behavior.  Michael was not happy.  I decided to call Dr. Wood's office and express my concerns about Dr. Oliver, but found I couldn't put them into words.  All I could manage was, "He wasn't what I expected or was hoping for", then I lost it.  I lost it all the way home (Michael had gone back to work).  I lost it at home until Debbie (my mother-in-law) and Enman arrived.  Answering calls and texts I would just break down.  What I found was, I needed that breakdown.  I needed that release.  I believe God allowed me to have a trigger in Dr. Oliver so that I could have a release of emotions.  God knows what He's doing and I needed to cry.  Boy did I cry.

So I'm going to end this portion of the Unexpected Journey there.  I'm only 6 days out from the mastectomy, so I don't believe I have fully realized all of my emotions yet.  In a couple of days I will post more.  I hope this helps someone, somewhere.  Just put your faith in Christ, he'll see you through.  "For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope."  Romans 15:4.